


Perfect Shot

by Nicky_Gabriel



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicky_Gabriel/pseuds/Nicky_Gabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Starsky, you know I’d do just about anything for you, but covering for you when you have a date with the Captain’s wife is not my idea of being helpful.” Hutch stood in the doorway, toweling his hair and trying to appear irritated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Shot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [provencepuss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/provencepuss/gifts).



> Edited by dawnebeth. Thank you!  
> All mistakes left are mine.

– 1982 –

“Starsky, you know I’d do just about anything for you, but covering for you when you have a date with the Captain’s wife is not my idea of being helpful.” Hutch stood in the doorway, toweling his hair and trying to appear irritated.

Starsky had already finished eating his breakfast and was now sitting on the couch lacing his shoes.

“Hutch, it’s important,” he said matter-of-factly. “As in – it’s life or death important.” He glanced at Hutch.

Hutch sighed, exasperated. “If Dobey finds out that you were out with Edith when I called you in sick...”

Starsky got up, reaching for his jacket and car keys. “I won’t be ‘out’. I will be ‘in’. I’m going to pick her up and she’s coming here, to Venice.”

Hutch almost dropped the towel. “What? Starsky!”

“Trust me, Hutch.” Starsky just smiled at him. Lightly touching Hutch’s side while walking toward the door, he said, “You have nothing to worry about.”

Hutch didn’t say anything, knowing that nothing could change Starsky’s decision when he set his mind on something. 

Starsky turned at the door, looking one last time at his partner. “Be careful.”

Hutch sobered. “I’m always careful.”

The door closed and Hutch went back to their kitchen. He found his breakfast already waiting on the table – Starsky must have prepared it for him – and he felt the usual warmth around his heart. Of course, Starsky wouldn’t be Starsky if he hadn’t smuggled some jelly into the toast, but Hutch wasn’t going to complain. He sat down at the table and decided it was high time to figure out what to tell Dobey when he got to the station.

*

It had been the busiest day at work in really long time. Hutch felt more tired than if he had worked overtime Desk duty was a given whenever one of them couldn’t come to work, but today Hutch was assigned to step in for a training officer. He’d spent the entire day with four rookies, just out of Academy. It was an experience he could do without.

The rookies were young, eager and still saw the world in black and white. Life would verify what they believed in all too soon and – if they lived long enough – they would have to face all the shades of grey on every corner of the street.

He envied them secretly. He also knew that there was no coming back to what he had believed at the beginning of his career. The one thing he had left from the early days was Starsky. Somehow that was the only thing that kept him going. Against all odds, he felt happy with the life he had now.

Hutch left the station, thinking about what one of the rookies – Grisham? – had said. No, Hutch wasn’t a hero, as Grisham claimed. How could anyone even think that? Starsky, on the other hand was. There the rookies were right. Hutch, amused at how people who didn’t know him saw him. Driving home, he wondered how people who _did_ know him perceived him. He decided that he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“You are late.” Starsky was waiting for him with dinner ready.

“Ask me why,” Hutch grumbled, going straight to the bathroom.

After quick shower that made Hutch feel human again, they sat at the table. Hutch noticed that Starsky felt quite pleased with himself. They both knew that Dobey would eventually find out how Starsky had spent the day, but if their plan worked, he wouldn’t complain. Much. 

Hutch waited patiently for his partner to crack. It wasn’t in Starsky’s nature to keep things in for too long.

After dinner Hutch sat on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. He drank half of his beer and leaned his head against the back of the sofa. Starsky was finishing the dishes. Hutch had refused to help him, reasoning that it was a payback for skipping work and leaving him with playing tour guide and having to answer questions all day.

“You wanna see what I accomplished today?” Starsky asked with mischievous grin. 

Hutch groaned dispiritedly. “S’not funny.”

Starsky reached out his hand and slid it under Hutch’s neck, massaging gently. “Hutch, just think about it,” he said. “When Edith’s happy, the Captain’s also happy. And when Dobey’s happy, our work is a lot easier than when he’s grumpy.”

“So, what have you been doing the entire day?” Hutch gave in, looking at him suspiciously. He tilted his head to give Starsky better access to his tense muscles. Starsky’s touch was pure heaven.

Starsky almost beamed. “She was incredible!”

Hutch raised an eyebrow. “This is Edith we’re talking about?”

Starsky let go of his neck and shifted, reaching for a white envelope on the coffee table

“You have no idea, buddy.” He handed him a set of prints.

Hutch took out the photos and gasped. “Starsky...”

Starsky met his eyes. “I told you it would work!”

Hutch looked at the picture again. Edith was sitting on the bed in Starsky’s studio with her back turned to the camera, looking over her shoulder. She was covered only in a white sheet that beautifully enhanced the color of her skin. She looked incredibly sexy in such simple but alluring pose.

“It’s beautiful,” Hutch whispered. “She’s beautiful.” He had never thought of her _this way._

__“Of course she’s beautiful.” Starsky shrugged. “Everybody is.”

Hutch turned toward him. “How did you do that?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Starsky frowned. “Why do you think I needed the entire day off? You don’t take pictures like that in five minutes. Some people need time to gather the courage to share their inner beauty with the rest of the world.”

“And how did you accomplish that?” Hutch tapped the glossy surface with his finger. He had never seen Edith with that hair style – she had straight hair tied up with a wide red scarf.

Starsky hesitated, “We visited Sweet Alice.”

Hutch almost dropped the pictures. “You what?” 

“I took Edith to Alice’s place after we had lunch. Alice helped her to prepare for her photo session.”

“You took Dobey’s wife to a known hooker’s home so she could prepare her for a photo session?” Hutch asked, completely taken aback.

“Well, I don’t know anything about makeup and... girlish things,” Starsky explained patiently. “But two hours were enough for Alice to...make a difference.”

Hutch shook his head. exasperated. He had witnessed Starsky in action with the girls who visited the studio Starsky set up with Huggy at the attic of Venice Place, but those models usually weren’t forty-year-old housewives. The Captain of detective’s wife, to be precise.

“I know what you’re thinking, blondie.” He heard Starsky saying and blushed slightly.

It was easy to make such assumptions – there were few women who decided to have pictures like that taken, especially women who were happily married.

“You think I would’ve shown you these pictures if she hadn’t given me permission?” Starsky asked.

Hutch touched the print briefly. “No, I don’t think. I’m sorry.”

Starsky resumed gently massaging his neck.

Hutch put the picture aside and looked at the second. Edith had her eyes closed and a gentle – and somehow suggestive – smile on her lips. She was lying on her back in the bed.

Starsky sometimes used a ramp to take pictures from above the bed. 

Hutch swallowed hard and glanced at his partner. “Show off,” he said hoarsely.

“Hey, modesty was never in my nature – I _am_ the best photographer you’ve ever met,” Starsky grinned. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it!”

Hutch put the photo aside. “How did she find you?”

“I was taking Rosie’s pictures last month, remember?” Starsky reminded.

Hutch nodded. “How could I forget?”

Rosie had just gotten a new dog and she‘d wanted to have ‘professional’ pictures of her puppy. Dobey assigned Starsky to do the job. Starsky didn’t complain. He loved working with children. They were usually natural in front of camera which was what Starsky always tried to accomplish.

“So,” Starsky was saying. “Edith drove Rosie here. While I was busy with her and the puppy, Edith skimmed through the pictures I had on display,” Starsky explained. “Did you know that she majored in art?”

“No,” Hutch admitted intrigued.

“Yup. She had traveled to Europe before she met the Captain, but after they got married, she decided to stay home and take care of the kids.”

Hutch looked at the next print. It was a simple portrait; Edith was looking into the camera and smiling brightly. “I see.”

“She asked me if I could help her to set this up. She wanted to celebrate their twentieth wedding anniversary in a special way. We agreed it would be an excellent idea.”

“I’m not sure Dobey will share your enthusiasm,” Hutch countered.

“If she plays her cards right, we don’t have to worry,” Starsky dismissed his concerns.

“We?” Hutch asked with a scowl.

“Partners, remember?” Starsky reminded him. “That’s why it had to be today – Dobey went to San Francisco after lunch for the conference and will stay there until tomorrow. Plus Rosie is on the school trip.”

“Cal?”

“He had classes until late evening and he’s spending night at his friend’s.”

Hutch nodded. It was a well formed plan, but he still couldn’t believe that Starsky agreed to take part in Edith’s scheme.

“Any nudes?” he asked, almost fearing the answer.

“Yes.”

“Not here?” Hutch lifted the pictures.

“Nope, she took them with her.”

“Dobey’s gonna kill you,” Hutch warned.

Starsky only grinned.

Hutch went back to flipping through the pictures. When he reached the last one, it only confirmed that Starsky was truly the best photographer he had ever met. Seeing Edith the way Starsky did was as impressive as it was upsetting. Starsky saw inner beauty in everybody and somehow he always managed to expose it in his pictures. 

Selfishly, Hutch could only be grateful that his partner hadn’t followed his childhood dream to become a professional photographer, because they wouldn’t have met. Now, when they finally worked _normal_ hours, not 24/7, Starsky could reunite with his passion. He was slowly making a name in the photographer market.

“Starsk?” Hutch heard himself asking.

“Hmm?”

“How much does a session like Edith’s cost?”

Starsky laughed. “You can’t afford me, pal.”

Hutch glanced at him amused.

“But you can pay in kind,” Starsky added, ruffling his hair.

“Oh, can I?” Hutch handed him the pictures back. “Starsk, I’m serious.”

Starsky put the prints back into the envelope and met his eyes. “Me, too.”

Hutch didn’t look away.

“Why?” Starsky asked. 

“Huh?”

“Why would you want a photo session? If I remember correctly, you ran off when your mother first took you to a photographer with your sister. How old were you? Five?”

Hutch nodded self-consciously. He remembered how humiliating it felt when he had to go to the ‘Mayer’s Photo Lab’ all those years ago. It had been expected that he look perfect. He had to wear a tie and a vest and he couldn’t move as he wanted. He hated it.

“Does it matter?” Hutch asked in a low voice.

“Of course it does.” Starsky touched his arm. “The answer would let me choose a ‘tactic’. Rosie wanted the photos taken so she could keep her dog as a puppy forever. I took them for a walk in the park. Edith wanted to seduce her husband again, so we decided nudes would do the job. What do _you_ need, babe?”

Hutch took a deep breath. He didn’t know what he wanted. Or did he?

“I wonder... I’m curious how you see me.” He decided to tell the truth. He never lied to Starsky and he wasn’t going to start now.

“You don’t know how I see you?” Starsky asked with a hint of pain in his voice.

Hutch turned his head away, because the question hurt as well.

Starsky noticed his reaction. “Hutch, you can’t have a photo session to have pictures like that taken. It takes the entire life to make a statement like that.”

Hutch sighed. “Yeah, well. I guess I will save some money then.”

“I don’t think so.” He heard Starsky’s whisper.

“What do you mean?” Hutch looked at him expectantly.

Starsky hesitated. “I _do_ have your pictures, but you sure you trust me that much? You may not like what you see.”

Hutch hated the reluctance in Starsky’s voice. “I know what I’ll see. I see it every day,” he said firmly.

This time Starsky couldn’t look at him. “What do you see?”

“Love.”

Hutch adored when Starsky smiled like he just did now.

“So why?” Starsky asked.

Hutch bit his lip and shrugged. “I think I need a proof. Confirmation?” As if Starsky hadn’t already been given every proof and confirmation he could ever imagine. But Hutch still needed more, especially recently. Starsky never refused to give. Was this asking too much?

The answer was apparently sufficient, because Starsky nodded and got up from the sofa.

Hutch thought he would bring his camera. However, Starsky went to his room and came back with a photo album. The leather cover was worn and some pictures were sticking out from between the pages, apparently not glued to the paper.

“What’s that?” Hutch asked curious. 

“It’s you.” Starsky slumped next to him, shifting so he could sit cross-legged and face Hutch.

“Me?”

“I _have been_ taking pictures of you over the years, didn’t you know?” Starsky explained patiently.

“Sure I did,” Hutch answered, mildly intrigued nonetheless.

“These are the pictures you don’t know about.” Starsky warned him solemnly.

“Not possible,” Hutch said. “I always know when you are photographing me.”

Starsky smiled and handed him the album, holding onto Hutch’s hand before he could open the book. “Hutch, I know you think you need it, but you really may not expect some of the pictures,” he said squeezing his wrist gently.

Hutch frowned, feeling suddenly uneasy. “Hey, I drew you when you didn’t know about it,” he reminded.

Starsky shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, photography is for me is like drawing for you, I guess.”

Hutch turned his hand and clasped Starsky’s palm. “You don’t have to show me any photos if you don’t want to. I remember how I felt when you wanted to see the drawings of my ladies.”

Starsky shook his head. “There is nothing you don’t already know about. You’re in almost every picture in this album.”

“But?”

“But you _will_ see yourself the way I do.”

Hutch knew that might be dangerous. “I trust you, Starsk,” he whispered.

Starsky let go of his hand and nodded at the book. “Go on then.”

So simple, and yet so meaningful. Hutch opened the book and froze. Seeing his father’s face in the first photo was so unexpected that for a moment, it blurred before his eyes. 

“Where did... when did you take this picture?” He looked at Starsky sharply.

“The day we graduated academy,” Starsky answered.

“But... I don’t understand... Why?”

“You know I prefer taking photos of the crowd instead of the events that are taking place.” Starsky shrugged.

“This is your idea of character study?” Hutch asked, remembering that Starsky had explained it to him during one of the more boring stakeouts. 

“Hey, if it weren’t for my unusual modus operandi, I wouldn’t have had this picture.”

Hutch looked at the picture again and touched the surface. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you had it?”

Starsky shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t think I should share it. I didn’t notice his tears until I developed the picture and then I couldn’t share it with you, but I couldn’t throw it away either.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“He loves you, Hutch.”

“I know.”

Starsky waited patiently until Hutch composed himself and looked at the next one. This was a photo of him, still in the academy – on the track, during one of his morning runs.

“You fascinated me,” Starsky explained even before Hutch could ask the question. “I tried to figure out why you joined the academy, why you were doing it. Why were you tried so hard until you mastered every skill we needed to know. Excelling in everything. I went to the track every morning because of you.”

“Did you figure it out?” Hutch asked curious. 

“No.” Starsky admitted. “Not at first. Took me a while, but I noticed the change.”

“Huh?”

Starsky reached for the picture and put it on the table. “You changed. At first you were angry – see?” He pointed at the next one. 

The picture had been taken while Hutch was still married to Vanessa. “Yeah.” He looked at next few and could see what Starsky meant.

“And then you were resigned,” Starsky continued. “Giving up. Until...”

Hutch smiled at the next one. 

“Until they partnered us,” Starsky summarized.

Hutch nodded. He remembered that moment. Huggy had taken the picture, the first time Hutch was really happy with his life after the divorce. 

Starsky held his hand before Hutch could turn the page. 

“What?”

Starsky didn’t say anything, but squeezed his hand gently. 

When Hutch turned the page, he understood. He was sitting on the beach, under a tree, looking at the rising sun. He had a bruise on his cheek, his hair was disheveled and was wearing long sleeves as if the morning was chilly. 

Hutch remembered it hadn’t been chilly at all, but his insides were frozen. It had taken a lot of time, and Starsky’s efforts, to melt the ice around his heart and soul. He might have not been a heroin addict, but he still went all the way through the withdrawals and Starsky had walked beside him every step. Sometimes Starsky had lead him, sometimes he had carried him and sometimes he let Hutch lead them both.

But the picture – despite how low and ugly and disgusting he’d felt – was one of the most beautiful Hutch had ever seen.

“How could you...” Hutch looked up. “How could you love me so much?” He asked the question that had haunted him for years.

“How could I not?” The answer – on the other hand – was simple.

Hutch closed the album and swallowed hard. He got all the answers he ever wanted. 

“You still need a photo session to see how I see you?” Starsky asked mischievously.

“No, but I think _you_ need a photo session to take the pictures you always wanted to have here,” he picked up the photo album, “but never dared to ask.”

“Hutchinson, even you are not that brave.”

“You want to ask me to take my clothes off?” Hutch raised an eyebrow.

Starsky laughed. “Nope.”

“No?”

“No, if I wanted nudes, I would have stripped you a long time ago.”

Hutch laughed. “Aren’t there any rules in photography about ‘just looking no touching’?”

“Hutch, for the last ten years, I’ve been imprinted in every cell of your body. I have the same rights to your soul as you do. Don’t tell me about any rules now.”

Hutch stared at him. He had asked Starsky to show him how he looked in Starsky’s eyes, but Hutch hadn’t expected him to be so... vocal about it. Starsky always claimed that he hated soapy scenes and love declarations. As usual, he was giving Hutch what he needed the most.

“If so, why haven’t you ever claimed it before?” Hutch asked, putting the album on the table.

“Never had to.” Starsky shrugged. “You belong to me. Period.”

“So?”

Starsky sighed. “The moments I want the most, you can’t give me.”

Hutch hadn’t expected that answer. “Why?”

“Because they happened long before I met you,” Starsky said with heartbreaking sadness.

Hutch blinked with a lump in his throat. Sometimes he felt as if he hadn’t existed before he met Starsky.

“Then we will have to visit my dad,” he said. “He can give you the answers you’re looking for. And he has a photo album or two.”

Starsky’s smile was brilliant.

*

“Starsky!” Dobey was sitting in his chair.

Starsky wasn’t sure if he was royally pissed or if he was just his usual grumpy self. Or something else.

“Close the door!”

Starsky did, but stayed close enough for a hasty exit.

“I talked with Edith and we decided that... well, maybe you could...”

“Captain?”

“Could Edith and I have a photo session together?”

**THE END**


End file.
